neatly stopped in his rush through the thicket, the manifold beauties
which the autumnal season weaves will naturally arrest one's attention;
for he is callous indeed to all sense of beauty who even in the midst
of exciting sport can fail to note the harmonies of the October
countryside. To the true nature-lover, the shooting will be more of
an excuse than the principal reason for the excursion, of which the
surroundings and the joys of social companionship should constitute
the greater entertainment. And thus ere leaving the scene of the last
hour's sport, one involuntarily pauses at the skirts of the wood for a
final survey,--to mark the gorgeous ambers of the beech, the garnets of
the shad-blow and splendours of the dogwood and liquidambar; to view
the fires of the swamp-maple, the ochres of the sassafras and clarets
of the oak; while, fringing the edges of the thicket, the bronzed
fronds of the ostrich-fern and gilded pennants of the aspens flutter
their farewell to the passing year. On every side the insignia of
autumn blaze. Thorns hang heavy with their burden of ruddy fruit, the
black-alder berries gleam crimson in the swamp, hickory and elm shower
down their ore. And but for the patter of dropping nuts, the robin's
angelus, and the lisping of migrants pluming for their southward
flight, one might suppose the arrased woodland halls had never
hearkened to the hermit's song or echoed to the veery's strain. In
the air overhead the midges are holding their final dance; while from
the lengthening shadows and plaintive autumn breeze comes a whispered
admonition to seize the fleeting moment and make the most of the golden
hour.
Nevertheless, however alive to the enchantments of nature, the tonical
quality of the air will have asserted its sway, and the gunner's
appetite have mounted apace with the bag. So, in that contented frame
of mind and body which out-of-door exercise imparts, one arrives at
the scene of the luncheon, which has been happily chosen in a glade
through which the slanting sunbeam strays. And here the arrivals will
note with delight the presence not only of certain vitreous receptacles
with gilded capsules that are cooling in the stream, but also that of
St. Ange, who so distinguished himself on a previous occasion with his
wonderful salmis of quail. With the first glass of the foaming essence
of the Marne, which blends admirably with the lobster-cutlets and
tartare sauce, even the most enthusiastic of sportsmen will experience
no regret at the change from the covers of the upland to those of the
table. The more so as, passing to a vintage of the Haut-Médoc with
its accompaniment of eggs _farcis_, chicken-breasts with a chestnut
stuffing, lettuce sandwiches with _pâté de foie gras_, and the final
tartlets of puff-paste, the brightness of bright eyes increases, the
merry tale goes round, and St. Ange arises to this gastronomic homily:
"The collation to which we have done such merited justice
demonstrates that not only in the society of the fair sex
may man enjoy a delightful hunting-jaunt, but that the care
they are capable of bestowing upon the spread renders their
companionship even yet more desirable. The best of all sauces
is hunger engendered by exercise in the open air, and,
equally, the best of digestives is pleasant company. But you
have asked me to present my views of a _fête champêtre_.
In the present instance, as I consider the excellence of
the repast, and survey the ideal scene that surrounds us,
where even the trees disburse a golden tribute, I have but
to draw from the hour itself to find all the elements that
are necessary for an ideal rural outing--congenial company,
a faultless day, an unexceptionable lunch, and picturesque
environment. As for the luncheon, its perfection consists
in its piquancy and lightness. All heavy dishes should be
scrupulously avoided. Taken at an unaccustomed time during the
middle of the day, they are not only more or less indigestible
and conducive to plethora, but they are inimical to the
dinner which necessarily succeeds at a later hour, and which,
however well prepared, must prove a failure without appetite.
In planning the luncheon one should always see to it that
some tart relishes, as well as sweets, accompany the more
substantial portions; for the taste out-of-doors invariably
craves one or the other, if not both. It is equally important
that the wines be served at the right temperature,--
"'The Roederer chilly to a charm,
As Juno's breath the claret warm,'--
and that some one person be held strictly accountable for
their condition. Where exercise is to be freely partaken of,
beer or ale and some effervescent water should always form
a part of the provision-box. At all seasons during which an
outing may be taken with comfort, ice should be liberally
provided. Its absence may spoil the day. If not wanted, its
burden is light; and if required, nothing can take its place.
Where women lend their attractions to the party, champagne
of a fine vintage, neither too sweet nor too dry, should be
allowed to flow freely. The advantage of this form of wine
consists not only in the exhilarating sparkle and play of
its mantling life, where the beads that airily rise are ever
in pursuit of those that have merrily passed; but in the
magnetism it possesses above all other wines--of tempting the
fair sex to drink an extra glass. The location for the midday
symposium, if well chosen, will add greatly to the enjoyment
of the occasion. This should be free from draughts, by the
side of a stream if possible, and offer an attractive view.
These conditions fulfilled, nothing but pleasant remembrances
can remain until the next _villeggiatura_.
"You have requested of me a new dish. And if you forget La
Bruyère's sentence that 'all has been said, and we arrive too
late by more than seven thousand years since man has lived and
thought,' I may observe that cookery is older than literature,
and that new dishes are as difficult to devise as new thoughts
are to be born; it is only by new combinations in both that
one may hope to achieve applause. Yet there is everything in
a delicate touch in cooking, which is always more inherent
than acquired, a connaissance of herbs and flavourings, and
a natural love for the good things of the table, inspired
by robust health and inheritance. With precisely the same
components, no two artisans will produce the same results.
There is an art even in the boiling of a potato, as there is
in the blending of a salad, the gilding of a roast fowl, and a
game-bird cooked _à point_.
"Baron Brisse, you will recollect, has contributed an
invaluable recipe for a _gigot rechauffé_, whereby a leg
of mutton may be made to do duty for two consecutive days.
Here is the mode to prepare a _gigot à la Richelieu_ which
is not chronicled in the cook-books,--the allusion to the
distinguished Cardinal referring both to its cardinal virtues
and the colour of the sauce. It is unnecessary to state that
this dish belongs to the dinner and not to the luncheon:
"_Gigot de mouton à la Richelieu._ In the leg of mutton
you have chosen, which should be that of a Pré-Salé or a
South Down wether two years old and properly hung--the
four-year-olds are too fat and are apt to taste tallowy--you
will make a dozen incisions, placing in each its tithe or
twelfth part of a clove of garlic. The _gigot_ will then be
rubbed over with flour, salt, and a little cayenne. Then
roast, basting thoroughly, and serve somewhat underdone,
with a tomato sauce composed as follows: Take half a can
of tomatoes, add half a clove of garlic, a small piece of
bay-leaf, two cloves, a sprig of parsley, a stick of celery,
two small carrots, and a small piece of raw ham. Cook half
an hour, pass through a sieve; take a tablespoonful each of
flour and butter and make a _roux_ in a separate stewpan; then
add the tomato sauce, together with a little broth, salt and
pepper, cooking until the proper consistency of the sauce is
attained. On the sauce, to a great extent, depends the success
of the dish, which, when well executed, is altogether too good
to last for two consecutive days. I concede the merits of my
deceased friend, the worthy baron; but try a _gigot de mouton
à la Richelieu_! With this dish alone, including its vegetable
accessories, and a salad, a bit of Rocquefort and a sound
bottle of old Bordeaux, one may say with Joseph Délorme,--
"'_Jouissons, jouissons de la douce journée,
Et ne la troublons pas, cette heure fortunée._'
(To the fullest enjoy the sweets of the day,
And stay the bright hour ere it passeth away.)
"I have now only to propose the health of the ladies who have
so enhanced the pleasures of the occasion; and, finally, to
remind the sportsmen who, with all their distractions, have
admirably distinguished themselves prior to the luncheon,
that sending game, which one may have secured at the expense
of many a league of toil through field and covert-side, to
certain friends is sometimes a waste of good-will:
"'It will soon be time for you to pull the trigger again,'
observed one of two enthusiasts of the gun to a companion,
as they were discussing the vinous virtues of the 1895
Clos-Lamarche, whilst the dun September evening rapidly shut
out the twilight and proclaimed the advent of autumn once
more.
"'Yes,' was the rejoinder; 'I intend to try the woodcock
to-morrow. But I shall not repeat the experience I had last
year on the same date, when, sending my bag of the long-bills
to a convalescing patient who was a connoisseur in art
but not in _feræ naturæ_, I received a most appreciative
acknowledgment by return mail, thanking me for the "delicious
quail" I had sent him.'"
But the cigars are finished, the golden afternoon is waning, and the
chill of the autumnal evening will descend swiftly upon the scene.
There remains time, ere the return, only for a brief drawing of a
neighbouring cover of alders, where a flight of fall woodcock may
be probing amid their secluded glooms. The birds prove plentiful,
the pointers are staunch, and notwithstanding the somewhat prolonged
repast, the aim of the sportsmen is true. A bevy of quail, which at
the final moment rise wildly from the edge of the covert and twist
down the hillside, must be left for another occasion, with but three
of their number to swell the score. How darkly blue the contours of
the distant hills, seen athwart a patch of flaming sumach and bramble!
With what brilliancy the beams of the sinking sun irradiate the gold
of the beeches and the spun silver of the gossamer! And how the bright
eyes of those in waiting sparkle at the sight of the woodcocks, as the
hampers are hastily repacked, and the orange crescent of the hunter's
moon speeds the party onward through the paling twilight and a wan mist
that is stealthily creeping over the landscape,--the grey ghost of the
departed October day!
[Illustration: TRUFFLE-HUNTING IN THE DAUPHINÉ
From the Salon picture after Paul Vayson]
[Illustration]
TWO ESCULENTS PAR EXCELLENCE
"Avec les truffes, et avec quelques-uns de ces excellents
champignons si admirablement analysés par M. Roques, vous
refaites la cuisine; vous en avez une du moins qui ne vieillit
jamais, même pour vous."--MARQUIS DE CUSSY: L'Art
Culinaire.
The truffle! what a fragrance its very name exhales. A flower like the
rose, but more enduring, say its admirers. This strange food product
has been studied by botanists, sung by poets, extolled by epicures,
and accorded certain rare attributes by physicians. Unseen, it is
sought for by entire communities; and discovered, it is treasured
as a priceless gem of the table. Savarin defined it as the diamond
of the kitchen. By La Reynière it was previously referred to as a
sample of Paradise, and later eulogised as possessing a torrent of
delights; while by Dumas it was pronounced the _sacrum sacrorum_ of
the gastronomer. It may, in truth, be regarded as the superlative
of esculents, its powerful and delectable aroma dominating that of
all other aliments with which it may come in contact. To the cuisine
of winter it is what the violet is to the chaplet of spring. The old
Greeks and Romans were extremely partial to it, although the varieties
known to them and mentioned by Pliny differed from the famous Tuber
melanosporum of southern France--the blackest and, as regarded by many,
the most perfumed and delicious of its curious and widely distributed
family. About 1825, under Minister Villèle, it came into greatest
vogue in Paris, when the subject was taken up by the press, and so
much was written in praise of the tuber that the demand soon increased
threefold, and its price became correspondingly augmented.
Like the mushroom, the truffle is impatient of keeping when gathered.
Preserved truffles, as a rule, are but a semblance of the fresh product
when eaten at its precise maturity; and those who know this thallogen
only in the former state have little idea of its marvellous flavour
when fresh and in full possession of its virtues, whether it be served
by itself or utilised as a vehicle for heightening the flavours of
other dishes. Its use demands the knowledge of an artist; for it is
only with certain forms of aliments that it should be employed. The
onion and the mushroom detract from its savour, and it is chiefly in
conjunction with fatty substances that its most expressive results are
attained. By French epicures it is tacitly understood that there can
be no grand dinner without truffles. "Who would dare to say," exclaims
Savarin, "that he has attended a repast where a _pièce truffée_
did not figure! However good an entrée may be, it should always be
accompanied by truffles to set it off advantageously." Its harmonious
association with grain-fed fowls is proverbial,--so much so, it has
been remarked, that at a well-composed dinner every phrase which may
have begun should be suspended upon the arrival of a truffled turkey.
Berchoux thus alludes to its use with fowls,--
"L'abondance est unie à la délicatesse,
La truffe a parfumé la poularde de Bresse."
(The truffle yields its most adored caress
When tuck'd within a tender fowl of Bresse.)
At a dinner where the renowned naturalist Buffon was present, a
truffled Périgueux turkey was brought in with great éclat. Inspired
by the penetrating aroma, an elderly lady who was among the guests
inquired of Buffon where the tuber grew. "At your feet, Madame," was
the ready reply. The lady not understanding, it was thus explained
to her: "_C'est aux pieds des charmes_" (at the feet of yoke-elm
trees). The compliment passed as a happy one. Towards the end of the
dinner some one asked the same question of Buffon, who, forgetful of
his elderly vis-à-vis, innocently replied, "They grow _aux pieds des
vieux charmes_" (old yoke-elm trees). The lady overheard him, and it
is unnecessary to state was no longer impressed with his genius as a
naturalist, or with the fact that a soup had been named in his honour
by the great Carême.
Though common to many countries, and comprising numerous species,
the truffle attains its greatest excellence in France, unless the
white truffle of Italy, which is considered equally good by many,
be excepted. Its chosen haunts are clayey soils mixed with sand and
limestone, moist, shaded, and temperate localities, southerly and
easterly expositions, protected slopes, and especially the umbrage of
oaks, as also of aspens, black poplars, nut-trees, yoke-elms, willows,
and white birches. Limestone or carbonate of lime is accounted as
necessary to its formation, while the presence of iron imparts to it
an added firmness and aroma. Despite persistent efforts, all attempts
to cultivate it have proved fruitless. It is only of recent years that
it has become known in part how it is propagated or how it grows.
Among trees, the oak is its most favoured companion, its artificial
production having been accomplished wholly through the cultivation of
oaks and certain other trees in soils and expositions corresponding to
its natural habitat.
By general consent Périgord is credited with producing the best
truffles, the next in commercial repute being those obtained from
Provence and Dauphiné; the finest of the former come from the canton
of Sarlat, the best of Dauphiné from the cantons of Tain and Valence.
Among authorities, Beauvilliers preferred the black product of Provence
(T. melanosporum), of which there are two varieties, the so-termed
violet and the grey; and Savarin the white species (T. magnatum),
obtained preferably from Piedmont, where it occurs beneath poplars and
oaks during summer. The whitish-brown truffle of Italy, in its early
stage, similar to the whitebait described by Thackeray, possesses an
"ambrosial flavour," and is difficult to surpass, combining as it
does all the most ethereal qualities of the Allium tribe with the
dulcet pungency of Gorgonzola when in its freshest flower. A species
exists which emits a powerful scent of musk, while numerous others
occur with odours so rank as to be utterly unfit for edible purposes.
Northern Spain produces excellent truffles, but these are comparatively
short-lived. T. æstivum, called "summer truffle," indigenous to many
countries, is extremely plentiful in southern France. It is common
to England, where it grows most frequently under beech-trees. This
exhales a strong and penetrating smell which has been compared to that
of sheep-folds. The effluvium of garlic is always very marked in the
white truffle of Italy, and by some it is said to recall the odour of
garlic mixed with onion, high game, and matured cheese. After standing
for a time, when its garlic flavour has become somewhat modified, it
is also suggestive of the flavour of vegetable-oysters. Indeed, the
truffle is as strange in its odours as it is in its manner of growth,
and in certain respects it brings to mind some characteristics of that
strangest of flowers, the orchid.
From November to March is the season when the prized dark tuber is
most abundant, and during which its highest qualities are evolved. The
black pearl of Provence and Périgord begins to take on its rich ebon
hue in October, lasting until April: æstivum and its varieties being
gathered during May and June in Provence, and from October to January
in Burgundy and Champagne. The species of greatest repute in southern
France is found at variable depths, mostly beneath certain oaks known
as _chênes truffiers_, or truffle-oaks. With it often occurs another
species, T. brumale, which is likewise held in much esteem and figures
as a large commercial factor. Among the inhabitants the truffle harvest
forms an extensive industry; pigs, dogs, and professional hunters being
utilised for the quest, and the crop always commanding high prices,
which are fixed by the Paris market. When the supply happens to be
short, many inferior species are substituted or are mixed with the
genuine.
Of recent years artificial _truffières_ have been largely planted in
the favoured districts of southern France. To M. Rousseau, a proprietor
of Vaucluse, has been erroneously ascribed the discovery of this means
of production. Already during the middle of the eighteenth century
M. de Montclar, procureur-général at Aix, discovered truffles as the
result of sowing acorns on his lands; but, the truffles disappearing
subsequently, no further attention was paid to the matter, and the
relation between cause and effect passed unnoticed or was forgotten.
Since then Poitou, Périgord, and Provence have each claimed to be the
discoverer of artificial truffle culture. It is within a comparatively
short period only that the merit of originating the system, now a
source of great revenue, was adjudged, after painstaking investigation,
to Joseph Talon, a small landholder of Vaucluse, who about eighty
years ago sowed some acorns in an unremunerative piece of ground. Ten
years afterwards, while passing through the plantation with the pig
he employed in hunting, he was not a little surprised to find truffles
beneath the oaks; when, recollecting that he had obtained the acorns
from a truffle-oak, he repeated the sowing on another plot, which in
course of time proved equally successful. The theory was established
beyond a doubt, and the result finally became generally known, despite
his efforts to keep it secret.
Many unsuccessful attempts at artificial truffle-raising have been
made. In 1830 Alexander Bernholz, a German, published a long treatise
on the subject, his theory being that by planting truffles in soil
composed of certain ingredients, and in localities and expositions
corresponding to their natural habitat, they could be successfully
grown. Count Noé, in the south of France, is said to have succeeded
in raising truffles in his woods by irrigating the ground, after
a certain degree of preparation, with water in which the skins of
truffles had been rubbed. But this statement, as well as other reputed
successful attempts at reproduction, would not seem to have been borne
out in France, where the planting of young truffle-oaks, the acorns
of truffle-oaks, or certain other truffle-producing trees alone has
accomplished the desired result.
In artificial plantations the truffles form in from six to ten years,
usually disappearing when the trees are twenty-five or thirty years
old. Then, after a variable period of non-production, the tuber often
forms again. As the truffle-tree develops, the vegetable growth which
surrounds it begins to decline, a certain index that truffles are
commencing to form--the ground round a truffle-producing tree being
always sterile. When the truffles cease the herbage again appears.
Though many unsatisfactory reasons have been ascribed for the
phenomenon, it has been traced by M. Grimblot to the simple fact
that the filaments of the mycelium invade and destroy the roots of
herbaceous vegetation. Similarly, vegetation asserts itself when the
cause is removed. With young trees the truffles are usually found
close to the trunk, whereas with old trees they generally appear near
the periphery of the circle formed by the outer roots, as well as at
a distance further removed, but usually within the shade of the tree.
To what extent the humus of the soil formed by the droppings of the
leaves is responsible is not stated. In many respects the subject
remains, as it has always remained, a complex phenomenon that baffles
the naturalist, who is usually content to refer to the truffle as
an "underground fungus," or "an order of sporidiiferous fungi of
subterranean habit." Perhaps the definition of Dr. C. de Ferry de la
Bellone, which may be summarised as follows, is as accurate as any: "A
subterraneous mushroom with a mycelium or filamentous body, from which
it is developed, like the mushroom, and which requires the roots of
certain trees for its formation."[52] The theory that the truffle owes
its genesis to the roots of trees, or is in some mysterious manner
connected with them, might be accepted as satisfactory were it not that
species are also found in open places where the argument could not
apply.
While the roots of most kinds of oaks, both deciduous and evergreen,
appear to be favourable for its generation, it has been found that
in a given region the best species to propagate are those which have
already produced the tuber in the locality in question, certain
varieties seeming to be more liable to reproduce it than others.
Climate, altitude, and exposition are also to be considered as regards
the choice of the kinds selected for plantations. The arboriculturist
and mycologist will be interested in the various truffle-producing
oaks that may be utilised, according to the site, soil, and climatic
conditions. These embrace the following species and varieties: Quercus
pedunculata, Q. ped. pubescens, Q. semi-ped., Q. sessiliflora nigra,
Q. nigra sessil. glabra, Q. nigra sessil. pub., Q. sessil. pub., Q.
sessil. laciniata, Q. sessil. magna pubes, Q. ilex, Q. coccifera. All
kinds of nut-trees are likewise favourable to its production, and
may be planted almost indiscriminately. The range of T. melanosporum
is broadly defined as between latitude 49° north and 40° south; the
question of quality depending, like that of many other esculents,
largely on climate and habitat. As in the same vineyard certain
portions yield a superior wine, so on particular slopes of localities
that favour the truffle a product of finer quality is obtained.
Besides the usual means of locating the truffle, its presence is
revealed by several species of coleopterous and dipterous insects
which, during late autumn and winter, on temperate days swarm in the
truffle-woods, attracted by the scent. These insects seek the tuber in
which to deposit their eggs, and are observed entering and leaving the
ground--a circumstance which gave rise to the opinion that the truffle
was only a gall. This form of truffle-hunting is practised chiefly by
poachers, and is known as _la chasse à la mouche_.